Happily, had early admonitions of perseverance from his mother, in whose widowed care he was left at three years old; and who, “to his incessant importunities for information, which she watchfully stimulated,” says his biographer, Lord Teignmouth, “perpetually answered, ‘Read, and you will know,’” His earnest mind cleaved to the injunction. He could read any English book rapidly at four years of age; and, though his right eye was injured by an accident at five, and the sight of it ever remained imperfect, his determination to learn triumphed over that impediment. Again, the commencement of life seemed discouraging: he had been placed at Harrow School, at the age of seven, but had his thigh-bone broken at nine, and was compelled to be from school for twelve months. Such was his progress, in spite of these untoward circumstances, and although characterised, let it be especially observed, as a boy “remarkable for diligence and application rather than superiority of talent,” that he was removed into the upper school, at Harrow, in his twelfth year. At this period he is found writing out the entire play of the “Tempest,” from memory, his companions intending to perform it, and not having a copy in their possession. Virgil’s Pastorals and Ovid’s Epistles are, at the same age, turned into melodious English verse by him; he has learned the Greek characters for his amusement, and now applies himself to the language in earnest; his mother has taught him drawing, during the vacations; and he next composes a drama, on the classic story of “Meleager,” which is acted in the school. During the next two years he “wrote out the exercises of many of the boys in the upper classes, and they were glad to become his pupils;” meanwhile, in the holidays, he learned French and arithmetic.
But this early and unremitting tension of the mind, did it not leave the heart uncultured? Were not pride and overweening growing within, and did not sourness of temper display itself, and repel some whom the young scholar’s acquirements might otherwise have attached to him? Ah! youthful reader, thou wilt never find any so proud as the ignorant; and, if thou wouldst not have thy heart become a garden of rank and pestilential weeds, leave not the key thereof in the soft hand of Indolence, but entrust it to the sinewed grasp of Industry. What testimony give his early companions to the temper and hearing of young Jones? The celebrated Dr. Parr—in his own person also a high exemplar of the virtue we are inculcating—was his playmate in boyhood, remained his ardent friend in manhood, and never spoke of their early attachment without deep feeling. Dr. Bennet, afterwards Bishop of Cloyne, thus speaks of Sir William Jones: “I knew him from the early age of eight or nine, and he was always an uncommon boy. I loved him and revered him: and, though one or two years older than he was, was always instructed by him.” ... “In a word, I can only say of this amiable and wonderful man, that he had more virtues and less faults than I ever yet saw in any human being; and that the goodness of his head, admirable as it was, was exceeded by that of his heart.”
With the boys, generally, he was a favourite. Dr. Sumner, who succeeded Dr. Thackeray, used to say Jones knew more Greek than himself. He soon learned the Arabic characters, and was already able to read Hebrew. A mere stripling, yet he would devote whole nights to study, taking coffee or tea as an antidote to drowsiness. Strangers were accustomed to enquire for him, at the school, under the title of “the great scholar.” But Dr. Sumner, during the last months spent at Harrow, was obliged to interdict the juvenile “great scholar’s” application, in consequence of a returning weakness in his injured eye: yet he continued to compose, and dictated to younger students; alternately practising the games of Philidor and acquiring a knowledge of chess. He had added a knowledge of botany and fossils to the acquirements already mentioned, and had learned Italian during his last vacation.
Let us mark, again, whether all this ardent intellectual activity cramps the right growth of the affections, and warps the heart’s sense of filial duty. “His mother,” says his excellent biographer, “allowed him unlimited credit on her purse; but of this indulgence, as he knew her finances were restricted, he availed himself no further than to purchase such books as were essential to his improvement.” And when he is removed, at the age of seventeen, to University College, Oxford, he is not anxious to enter the world without restraint; his mother goes to reside at Oxford, “at her son’s request.” And how he toiled, and wished for college honours, not for vain distinction, not for love of gain, but from the healthy growth of that filial affection, which had strengthened with his judgment and power of reflection! He “anxiously wished for a fellowship,” says Lord Teignmouth, “to enable him to draw less frequently upon his mother, knowing the contracted nature of her income.” His heart was soon to be gratified.
He commenced Arabic zealously, soon after reaching the University; he perused, with assiduity, all the Greek poets and historians of note; he read the entire works of Plato and Lucian, with commentaries, constantly ready, with a pen in his hand, to make any remark that he judged worth preserving. What a contrast to the “reader for amusement,” who will leave the priceless treasure of a book ungathered, because it is hid in what he calls a “lumbering folio,” and it wearies his hands, or it is inconvenient to read it while lying along at ease on the sofa! Yet this “great scholar” was no mere musty book-worm; he did not claim kindred with Dryasdust. While passing his vacations in London, he daily attended the noted schools of Angelo, and acquired a skill in horsemanship and fencing, as elegant accomplishments; his evenings, at these seasons, being devoted to the perusal of the best Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese writers. At the University, how was the stripling urging his way into the regions of oriental learning—that grand high-road of his fame that was to be! He had found Mirza, a Syrian, who possessed a knowledge of the vernacular Arabic, and spent some portion of every morning in writing out a translation of Galland’s French version of the Arabian Tales into Arabic, from the mouth of the Syrian; and he then corrected the grammatical inaccuracies by the help of lexicons. From the Arabic he urged his way into the Persian, becoming soon enraptured with that most elegant of all eastern languages. Such was this true disciple of “Perseverance” at the age of nineteen.
And now some measure of the rewards of industry, honour, and virtue begin to alight upon him. He is appointed tutor to Lord Althorpe, son of the literary Earl Spencer; finds his pupil possessed of a mind and disposition that will render his office delightful; has the range of one of the most splendid private libraries in the kingdom, together with the refined and agreeable society of Wimbledon Park; and is presented, soon after, with a fellowship by his college.
Mark well, from two incidents which occur about this time, what high conscientiousness, deep modesty, and sterling independence characterise the true scholar. The Duke of Grafton, then premier, offered him the situation of government interpreter for eastern languages. He declined it, recommending the Syrian, Mirza, as one better qualified to fill it than himself. His recommendation was neglected; and his biographer remarks that “a better knowledge of the world would have led him to accept the office, and to convey the emoluments to his friend Mirza. He was too ingenuous to do so. He saw the excellent lady who afterwards became his wife and devoted companion in study; but ‘his fixed idea of an honourable independence, and a determined resolution never to owe his fortune to a wife, or her kindred, excluded all ideas of a matrimonial connection,’” at that period, although the affection he had conceived was ardent.
In the year of his majority, we find him commencing his famous “Commentaries on Asiatic Poetry;” copying the keys of the Chinese language; learning German, by conversation, grammar, and dictionary, during three weeks passed at Spa with his noble pupil; acquiring a knowledge of the broad-sword exercise from an old pensioner at Chelsea; continuing to attend the two schools of Signor Angelo; and secretly taking lessons in dancing from Gallini, the dancing-master of Earl Spencer’s family, until he surprises the elegant inhabitants of Wimbledon by joining with grace in the amusements of their evening parties.
Such was the truly magnificent advancement made by this illustrious disciple of “Perseverance,” up to the age of twenty-one. Think, reader, how much may be done in the opening of life! How elevated the course of Sir William Jones! What cheering self-approval must he have experienced, in looking back on the youthful years thus industriously spent; but what humbling reflection, what severe self-laceration would he have felt, had he allowed indolence to master him, ease to enervate him, listlessness and dissipation to render him a nameless and worthless nothing in the world!
At the close of his twenty-first year he peruses the little treatise of our ancient lawyer, Fortescue, in praise of the laws of England. His large learning enabled him to compare the laws of other countries with his own; and though he had, hitherto, enthusiastically preferred the laws of republican Greece, reflection, on the perusal of this treatise, led him to prefer the laws of England to all others. His noble biographer adds a remark which indicates the solidity and perspicacity of Sir William Jones’s judgment:—“He was not, however, regardless of the deviations in practice from the theoretical perfection of the constitution, in a contested election, of which he was an unwilling spectator.” Yet the perfect theory of our constitution so far attracted him, as to lead him, from this time, to the resolve of uniting the study of the law to his great philological acquirements; his purpose was neither rashly formed, nor soon relinquished, like the miscalled “purposes” of weak men and idlers; it resulted in his elevation to high and honourable usefulness, in the lapse of a few years.